


Rejuvenation

by sunshinestealer



Category: Compilation of Final Fantasy VII, Final Fantasy VII
Genre: Gen
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2015-11-10
Updated: 2015-11-10
Packaged: 2018-05-01 01:05:48
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,240
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5186363
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/sunshinestealer/pseuds/sunshinestealer
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Aerith's first few years of life outside of the labs, living with her adoptive mother Elmyra. Pre Crisis Core.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Rejuvenation

Aerith knew that the outside world would be frightening. 

Her first steps outside had been under the cover of secrecy, as she was herded onto a packed commuters’ train, her mother keeping an eye out for the navy-suited Turks who would forcibly haul them back to the labs, dead or alive. Life was cheap to their sort. 

She had hid among her mother’s skirts, as Ifalna held onto one of the railings. The train rocked and swayed, red lights blaring every now and again as they went through one of Shinra’s automated ID checks. (Installed, of course, to make sure AVALANCHE - who liked to keep themselves ‘off the grid’, so to speak - wouldn’t be able to sneak around on the trains in disguise and evade the operatives sent to deal with them.)

Carrying Aerith, Ifalna had stolen the identities of two nurses, using her height and weight to shove past them in the night station, grab their ID cards, and abscond from the labs. 

Getting down from Shinra at this time of night had been remarkably easy. The guard for their dormitory hadn’t shown up, and rather than arrange cover, the short-staffed department just assumed that the two Cetra could spend one night completely unsupervised. She’d heard them talking about it in hushed tones earlier that day.

Ifalna had never been much of a runner, but she knew she wouldn’t be able to take the elevator down. There were too many stops in between, and considering the SOLDIER boys would often come up here and chatter about ‘going back down’, Ifalna didn’t fancy her chances of sneaking around the paramilitaries’ floor. So, she sought out the exit that would lead them to the stairs, and positively sailed down there.

Floor after floor, Ifalna ran. Even when she began to feel sick, even when Aerith began to feel motion sickness and looked ready to cry, she pulled her down further, even picking up the seven year old when she started to pant from exhaustion.

Around the twentieth floor, Ifalna wondered if the alarm had been sounded already — but it hadn’t. She must have hit those poor nurses a little too hard. That probably bought her another ten minutes, if they were concussed and too disoriented to sound the alarm. Professor Hojo would probably reprimand them in the morning, and make the call to mobilise the Turks. 

She’d heard tale of other such specimens who’d escaped, only to be dragged back and given the same old spiel. “You are helping _other people_ ,” the scientists would urge. “It’s for the greater good of humanity. Shinra only wants the best, and sometimes, necessary sacrifices have to be made.” It was always in the same tone too, hectoring and patronising, as if trying to explain to a child why they shouldn’t throw tantrums over the prospect of going to school.

When Ifalna got to the final set of doors that led out into the alleyway behind HQ, she expected her heart to sink. If the Turks had been alerted, the stairs was the sole way of escape out of the Shinra Building. The alleyway could be blocked off at both ends, and she was terribly afraid of those equipped with guns and lightning rods. They sometimes strolled around the Science Department, with vicious intent in their hearts. They had been too violent and trigger-happy for the Guard Corps, too much of a loose cannon for SOLDIER — even still, they possessed traits that were perfect for the bloodthirsty nature of the work carried out by the Turks.

But the alleyway was completely empty. There were a few dumpsters here and there, and probably rats scurrying in the shadows. Phosphorescent Mako flared up from a nearby drain, casting an eerie green light over the brick wall. 

Ifalna took a moment to adjust her shawl, and attempted to blend in as best she could. Well, as best as possible when most of your clothes were the gowns given to hospital patients. She’d kept a thick coat from her time living at Icicle Inn for Midgar’s colder days, along with a pair of hobnailed boots and long black socks to prevent deep vein thrombosis from long times spent sitting or supine during medical procedures. The coat disguised the gown perfectly, and its lambskin interior may have been a little too hot for summer shifting into autumn, but it at least kept her conspicuous.

Midgar was blessedly empty this time of night, with only the most drunken revellers staying out. Clubs and bars on the upper plate priced themselves accordingly, and insisted upon hefty cover charges to keep out the riffraff who would travel up to the nicer districts of the city to party. No wonder Don Corneo’s ‘entertainment district’ had thrived below, according to a current affairs headline Ifalna had read in some magazine.

Still, it was an unnatural place — bright, artificial lights everywhere, the Planet crying out beneath Ifalna’s feet as its energy was siphoned out en masse just to power a television in somebody’s apartment. 

Since humans had built it up, Midgar had been the capital city of the Western continent for centuries, and its stone architecture (particularly in the Old Quarter with all its bougie theatres and dance halls) reflected that. It was advantageous for Shinra to establish as a base when they went into energy production, due to the absolutely enormous amounts of planetary energy roiling beneath the earth. All they needed to do was build the plants, drill, convert the energy into electricity for the citizens, and let the money roll in. No-one questioned their monopoly, and any who did were quickly and efficiently silenced.

The arrogance of these humans was astounding. They had moved on from finite energy resources to one they _thought_ was infinite, when it really wasn’t. Ifalna had morbidly estimated that ten to twenty thousand people would have to die every day in order to be processed by the Lifestream and into Mako and Materia and everything else the Shinra needed for their day to day operations. In only a handful of generations’ time, the Planet would wither and die. And then what? Back to taking more resources out of the planet? 

She shook her head, stepping out into the brightly-lit path to avoid looking suspicious. Helpfully, there were signs directing her straight to the train station. She found the side of tracks that would allow her to escape into the anonymity of the slums, hopefully to find somebody who would help smuggle her out of the city for good. One of her greatest wishes was for Aerith to some day see the beautiful blue sky, to tour the Temple of the Ancients, and learn the folklore and teachings of her people.

The labs had been a sterile cage away from the world, with herself and Ifalna only allowed for walks in Shinra’s private biome once every fortnight. Just to keep their spirits up after several rounds of experiments, sitting in white hospital rooms in Shinra scrubs and enduring the procedures for whatever hypothesis about the Cetrans the Science & Research department wanted to test out this month.

There were no flowers in the biome, but plenty of trees, herbs and shrubs. There was a beautiful ivy trellis arcing over the door, and the roof displayed a bright blue sky thanks to virtual reality shutters displaying that instead of the endlessly dark and overcast sky that hung over Midgar. 

The most beautiful thing about this place wasn’t the decoration, however — it was how Ifalna’s face lit up. How Aerith knew that she would get an education in a subject she had grown to adore. Ifalna would speak of the Ancients’ heritage, the shared thoughts and memories that guidedtheir people into speaking with the Planet, benefiting from a symbiotic relationship with the plants and animals.

One secret moment away from the labs, Ifalna had sat down with her daughter in her lap, and started to meditate. When Ifalna felt Aerith jolt, she knew — her girl had the same connection with the Planet that she did. Aerith would ask why the trees seemed to have ‘voices’, how they felt lost, sustained only by artificial heat, soil and lighting. 

Ifalna didn’t understand quite why, but it appeared that the Ancient blood passed along matrilineally. She had eloped with her former husband, and believed that their child would be fully human. Maybe with a few Cetran traits here and there. But Aerith seemed to be just as powerfully in tune with the planet as any other Ancient.

The young girl looked up at her mother. An unspoken agreement passed between mother and daughter, as she implored Aerith to be quiet, and not cry, no matter how frightening their circumstances seemed.

Knowing that there were likely to be pursuers coming after them any moment made the wait for the train absolutely agonising. Despite the fact that there were only a few people on the platform, Ifalna couldn’t help herself from looking towards the entranceway every two seconds. 

She looked at each individual too, trying to ascertain from their bearing what kind of people they were. There was a man on the phone, loudly conversing with his girlfriend. There was an older man engrossed in his newspaper, and a teenage girl texting on her PHS, decked out in the merchandise of some pop music act. Probably snuck out against her parents’ wishes, too. She glared at Ifalna the third time she caught her, then went back to fiddling with her cell phone. It was a benign act, but it made a shiver travel down the Ancient’s spine. Where the Turks getting younger and younger these days?

Guardsmen were walking up and down the platform too, but weren’t actively searching for anybody. Aerith saluted one as he walked by. He smiled and offered a short salute back. Ifalna breathed a sigh of relief when the cadet just walked past, rather than asking her reasons for travelling. A young mother with a child, out past midnight? She had to admit, she hadn’t come up with any reasonable excuses.

When the train finally pulled in, Ifalna hurried onto it, despite how crowded it was. The tannoy announced that it was the last train of the night. She was thankful for the anonymity it offered, though.

She set Aerith down, the little girl clinging to her mother’s skirt. She turned away from the window, her head downcast and hoping to survive for another three stops. That was all it would take. Three stops, and then she’d be free in the slums. Slum-folk knew how people could be abused by the Shinra, and would arrange hiding places and even new identities for those looking to shake off the Turks. And, of course, as Ifalna hoped, there would be smugglers, able to arrange passage to somewhere like Cosmo Canyon. Not that she had much coin, she’d never needed it — but the pity of a mother desperately trying to provide a better life for her child had to count for something.

Aerith tensed, and Ifalna looked down at her.

Then the red light flared in the carriage. Instead of the usual automated voice claiming that these ID checks were for security purposes, a human voice cut into proceedings.

“The Shinra Company would like to speak with a woman and a female child who left protective custody this evening. We are concerned for their welfare. The woman is in her forties, and the child is around six to seven years old. Both have brown hair, pale skin and green eyes. Please inform your local Shinra guardsmen if you see them, do not approach or attempt to apprehend them yourselves.”

She froze, taking a deep breath and holding Aerith’s hand tightly to comfort her. Ifalna figured that Shinra would paint them as fugitives. If that angle worked, then nobody would suspect a mother and her child travelling home late at night. But, of course, they were too clever for that. Ifalna didn’t feel many eyes on her in the crowd, but she knew that the moment they were in a less crowded area, somebody would clap eyes on them and from then on, it was a matter of time. 

If the message had been delivered over the city-wide train system, then surely it would have been diffused through every network imaginable. People still awake at this time of night would be concerned for the vulnerable people on the run from the very people trying to help protect them. Maybe even come out of their homes with flashlights, look in their outhouses and down alleyways. At least there was no bounty announced, she reminded herself. Shinra knew how well the carrot and stick approach would work on an impoverished population. Children in the slums would turn a decent profit selling information to corrupt guards, after all.

She re-evaluated her plans, trying to look inconspicuous with the deep breathing she was having to do to remain calm. Brown hair and green eyes was a common trait. All she needed to do was get out of the upper plate. The train was currently descending through the tunnel that took them to their final destination. If she dispersed out of there with the crowd, through the main entrance… It had to work.

_“THIS IS THE SHINRA MARK II TRAIN. THIS STOP IS SECTOR SEVEN. THIS IS THE LAST STOP. PLEASE DISEMBARK.”_

The announcement came quicker than she thought. Ifalna looked hurriedly around the crowd in the carriage. Nobody had noticed her. Or they were pretending to not have noticed her, a panicky voice said in the back of her mind. Aerith suddenly clung onto her leg even tighter, the train rocking and swaying as the brakes were applied.

Another red light swept through the carriage. The nurses’ IDs were still working for them. Presumably the Shinra were still trying to glean information out of them, and hadn’t noticed the missing cards yet. Ifalna prayed to the Planet quickly, that they would be able to escape and prosper in their efforts to get to Cosmo Canyon.

She tugged on Aerith’s hand, as everyone started to move out of the carriage. From what little she could see out of the darkened windows, there were few guards on the platform.

There was a war on, and Shinra’s army had recruited en masse. The news had kept the worst of the war with Wutai out of the press, painting an unpleasant portrait of Godo Kisaragi’s rule. His own countrymen starving while he had expensive wine and delicacies with every meal. Lessons in schools designed to legitimise his rule for the younger generations. The worst corruptions of the outdated feudal system, a lord who hadn’t earned his people’s trust democratically, who kept the war going (with young soldiers dying and gettinggrave injuries on the front-lines) out of mere stubbornness. Shinra’s media were excellent story-mongers and spin doctors. Naturally, this had led to fewer men patrolling Midgar, and the crime rate particularly blossoming. Ifalna hoped this meant she _would_ be able to make it past this train station, just find one place willing to take them in…

Then she panicked.

A Turk was stood at the side of the platform. Highly trained, vicious and willing to use deadly force. He had a hand on his gun, which was fitted with a silencer.

She’d stood stock still, watching him, until she felt the last person push past her — and she no longer had the anonymity of the crowd.

The Turk watched, waiting as the commuters dispersed. He locked eyes with Ifalna, almost challenging her to make a move.

Ifalna pushed past him and ran, wrenching Aerith’s hand into hers.

The Turk responded the best way he knew how. By shooting her right through the back.

The sound of the bullet was deafening to Aerith. The whole world seemed to have slowed down. She let out a silent scream, as the Turk slipped down the stairs and back into the crowd, never to be seen again.

The red-coated guard at the station just stood stoic, making certain that nobody got onto the train. Rather than assisting the quietly-sobbing little girl whose mother was crumpled on the stairs leading up to the platform… He just stared straight ahead.

Aerith felt her mother’s connection with the planet weakening. She sat, numbly. Why would such a horrible thing happen to her mother? Why was nobody paying attention to the fact that a woman was murdered right in front of her child? Those in the crowd were choosing to pay no mind to the dying woman and her child either. She could barely speak, mashing her hands into her face so she wouldn’t be seen crying.

But there was one woman who was paying attention. A woman who had dropped her paper bag of groceries, rushing over to assist the young girl and her mother.

This was, unfortunately, all too common a sight. Sickly mothers would wait for their partners to come home from the warfront every day at the train station. Elmyra knew this more than most. She’d been lingering around the station every single day for the past few months, making stops in the morning, the afternoon, the evening, and the very last midnight train. Shinra were awfully quiet on the subject, no matter how many times she phoned and they promised new developments. Finally, as if to placate her, they had said her husband was participating in a high security task-force. Did her loneliness matter more than the lives of the countless people he would save if the Shinra troops were finally able to wrench Wutai out of Lord Kisaragi’s grasp? 

She stopped calling the army liaison, and just hoped and prayed that one day, the train would roll into the station with the miraculous sight of her husband stepping out, in a uniform that proudly displayed all of his war medals.

Instead, she saw a dying woman with a girl who could be no more than seven years old. She hadn’t seen the Shinra suit casually shooting the woman and going to hide amongst the crowd. At least, that’s what she was going to say if she was ever brought in for questioning. She knew the Shinra were murderous, and that the best thing one could do was to keep their head down and work for the greater good in this city. Especially in the slums, where life was cheap, and information was even cheaper.

Ifalna’s last words were to tell this stranger to take care of her beloved daughter. Who else would? The Shinra had just orphaned her in the cruellest way possible. Aerith would have no choice but to watch the light fade from her mother’s eyes, and then try to figure out how to survive in the slums. Too young. Much too young.

Elmyra had never been able to have children. She’d tried with her husband before he went away to war, but their chance never came. Feeling maternal, she allowed Aerith to say her goodbyes, and then took her by the hand.

“My house is really close by. You can live with me from now on,” she told the little girl. “Is that okay?”

Aerith didn’t struggle. She took a deep breath, almost waiting for her mother’s connection to the planet to sever. “It’s okay. She’s in a better place now.”

Elmyra couldn’t help asking. “And where is that?”

“The promised land.”

 

 


End file.
